Late
by alohamora080
Summary: "Do you really think three in the morning is the appropriate time to be discussing this?"


06 August 1995

"We already knew all of that from the Extendables, though," Ginny mused, frowning thoughtfully in the direction of where Hermione was sitting, cross-legged, on her rickety camp bed. "I mean…we already knew that You-Know-Who was plotting to get more followers—"

"But, we didn't know about the weapon," Hermione interjected grimly, her jaw clenching slightly. "Whatever it is."

"It can't be worse than the killing curse, though, can it?" Ginny demanded, brows furrowing. "Honestly, what can You-Know-Who do with some…weapon…that he can't do with his wand?"

"No clue." Hermione shrugged, biting her lip. Then, she sighed, closing her eyes, as she leaned back against the headboard. "I can't think about this right now, Gin, or I'll have a breakdown."

Ginny rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms. "I'm sorry…I'm just…scared—" she stopped short, head snapping up. Her eyes widened in alarm, and, in a single instant, she and Hermione both fell completely silent. Footsteps were coming down the hallway.

"Your mum," Hermione breathed, and, in a flash, she had rocketed out of her bed and clicked the light switch.

There was a creak of floorboards from outside the door, and Ginny pressed her lips together, as several long moments of silence passed. Then, finally, the floorboard creaked once more, as her mother started up the nearby staircase to check on Harry and Ron.

Ginny sighed in relief, murmuring through the darkness, "I swear, she just doesn't trust any of us anymore."

"Why should she?" Hermione exhaled gustily. "It's not like we're making an effort to do anything she wants us to. We've been overhearing meetings, demanding to talk to Harry, and begging the Order for information, all summer long."

"We have a right to, though!" Ginny argued. "It's not fair if they just leave us in the dark, Hermione! Clearly, You-Know-Who is building up an army. We can't just sit around and expect everything to be completely fine!"

For a moment, Hermione said nothing. Ginny glanced across the room towards Hermione's bed. In the dimness, she could just make out the elder girl's blurred outline, sitting up in bed, with her knees pulled up against her chest.

Then— "You sound like Harry when you say things like that," Hermione said quietly.

Ginny could feel like cheeks reddening, and, suddenly, she was very glad for the lack of light. "Say things like what?" Ginny asked indifferently, working furiously to keep her voice steady.

"Say things like…how…we can't just expect everything to be…fine," Hermione explained. "I just—I think—Harry would agree with you."

Ginny's heart soared, fluttering madly in her chest. But, just as quickly, it dropped, leaving Ginny with a dispirited expression on her face. "I doubt it." Ginny sighed glumly. "Harry only knows me as Ron's silly little sister."

"Don't say that," Hermione said firmly. "Remember what I told you last year? Just be yourself when you're with him, Ginny, and—" Hermione hesitated.

"And, what?"

"Don't think I've gone mental," Hermione warned, "but…I think you ought to date other boys."

Ginny immediately pushed herself upright, propping herself up on her elbows. She stared at Hermione, incredulous. "Are you mental?"

Hermione made a noise of deep exasperation. "Ginny—"

"How is dating other people supposed to help with anything?" demanded Ginny.

"Well…" Hermione said slowly. "If you date others, you'll be less awkward around him, and…maybe…he'll see you for who you really are."

Ginny pondered this. Then, with a deep breath, she revealed, "Michael Corner asked me out at the end of last year."

There was a sudden rustle of blankets, as Hermione sat up straighter. "Really?"

"Mm-hmm."

"You never told me that!" she exclaimed in a loud whisper, evidently thrilled. "What did you tell him?"

Ginny's lips twitched upward at Hermione's eagerness. "I…I—er—told him that I'd…think on it."

"Well, what are you waiting for? Write to him, and tell him you will!" Hermione urged. "Honestly, your thicker than Ron, sometimes—" she broke off, inhaling sharply, and Ginny could very well imagine the horrified expression on her face.

"What was that?" she asked innocently.

"I—nothing—forget it—" Hermione spluttered, sounding supremely flustered.

"Hermione…what happened between you and Ron, at the Yule Ball?" Ginny asked gently.

Hermione cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I—I don't really know—he—he was really annoyed that—that Viktor took me to the Ball, and—"

"Hm," Ginny interrupted lightly. "I see."

An uneasy quietude fell over the two girls.

When Ginny could stand it no longer, she asked, "Hermione?"

Hermione's voice, uncharacteristically small, floated up from the other end of the expanse. "Yeah?"

"What's going on…with…you and my brother?"

"Nothing, really." Hermione let out a sigh. "We're both over whatever went wrong last year—"

"Are you sure?"

There was a fleeting pause. Then— "No."

Ginny bit her lip, feeling as though she owed Hermione some sort of condolence. After all, the elder girl had helped Ginny so much, over the years. Finally, she said, "Hermione…whatever you do, just—just don't give up on him. Ron can be a prat—I'd know, trust me—but…but, he's all right, when it matters."

"I know," Hermione muttered, her voice barely audible. Ginny smiled. And, for the first time that night, a comfortable silence fell, enveloping the room with its soothing waves. Ginny felt her eyes droop.

Ginny stifled a yawn, stretching her arms and legs happily, before she collapsed, backwards, onto her bed. "What time is it, anyway?" she asked Hermione.

"Nearly three."

"Wow." Ginny laughed, a genuine smile spreading out across her face. "Do you really think three in the morning is the appropriate time to be discussing this?"

"Sometimes, it's the only time we have." Hermione chuckled. "Any other secrets you want to tell me?"

"Well…I'm planning on getting into Quidditch this year," Ginny added casually. "Reckon I'll be able to make it on as a reserve Chaser, or something of that sort."

"How do you even know how to fly?" Hermione sounded surprised. "I can't imagine any of your brothers allowing you to learn from them—or borrow their broomsticks."

"I've been breaking into the family broom shed since I was six, and flying out each of their brooms in turn."

"Oh." Hermione's tone was mildly impressed. "That's—er—well, good luck for tryouts, then."

Ginny giggled, eyes sliding shut, as she tugged her covers up to her chin, snuggling down into the bed. She could vaguely hear the muffled sounds of her parents and Sirius making their way up the staircase, to their respective bedrooms.

"Goodnight, Hermione."

"It's three o'clock in the morning, Gin."

"Right."

* * *

HI, EVERYONE! I wanted to let you all know: I am currently running The "True Colors" Competition over at HPFC. I would love it if you took a look, and, hopefully, decided to enter!

Anyway, this one-shot was for Macceh's "Three AM" Challenge. Just some good ol' friendship!

Yours sincerely,  
Alohamora


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